


Words We'd Rather Not Say

by meganbagels (Meganbagels)



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Awkward First Times, Awkward Romance, Awkward Sexual Situations, First Time, Frottage, Getting Together, Holiday Season, Holidays, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-30
Packaged: 2018-02-15 10:51:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2226324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meganbagels/pseuds/meganbagels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Aziraphale was flushing red with anger though more likely it was the wine. He looked magnificent. Terribly out of date, plump, well groomed, angry, and magnificent. Crowley groaned and put his head in his hands."</p><p>Crowley feels backed into a corner and says some things about having Feelings to Aziraphale. It doesn't go well, and then it goes okay, and then it goes very well indeed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words We'd Rather Not Say

**Author's Note:**

> I'd never have even dared to write Good Omens fic if it wasn't for the GO Holiday exchange and a lovely prompt by Artie.

Crowley and Aziraphale stumbled into Crowley’s block of flats after rather a good night’s drinking, both finally feeling holiday cheer for the first time in the season. Christmas always put them both on edge, although for very different reasons. Drinking enough wine to incapacitate one of the smaller whale species was usually helpful in gaining a little distance from it. Crowley felt very firmly that if it couldn’t be solved with sleep or wine that perhaps solving it just wasn’t meant to be. For this reason, most of his top marks were in Sloth. He wasn’t awful at the other six but Sloth was definitely one of his better subjects.

It was past one and they were trying to be quiet, but in the way of all beings who are drunk and trying to be quite, they were in fact several times louder than their normal speaking voices.

“Shh! Shhh! Angel, shussushhh! ‘Ve got neighbors, yknow? Just c’mon, gettup the stairs! S’only one set…bunch…flight? That can’t be right. Flight of stairs...? S’that right, angel? Angel?!”

Aziraphale was leaning against the wall and looking pensive. “What? Whatsrong?”

“Flight of stairs? D’sthat seem right t’you?”

“S’nice. R’minds me of birds. I’ve always liked birds” Aziraphale stroked the wallpaper absentmindedly.

“I know, but s’that the word for a” Crowley searched for an apt collective noun before giving up “herd of stairs? A flight?”

“Think so” Aziraphale said as he nearly toppled over, attempting to make his way to the stairs.

“Angel! Jeez, watch out!”

“M’fine, my dear boy, just whatsit, tipsy”

“D’you need help?”

“Th’might be wise.”

Crowley weaved his way over to Aziraphale and managed to get an arm around him. It actually made it harder for either of them to move but the illusion of stability was powerful enough to keep them upright.

“Dear, d’you think we should sober up?” Aziraphale asked, looking glassy eyed at Crowley.

“Why bother, almost there. S’good to do things the hard way, right? Makes you hmm, makes you understand ‘em. Humans.”

They’d made it up the flight but still had a hallway to get down. The door next to Crowley’s apartment opened abruptly causing both of them to jump a little in surprise and then struggle to maintain balance.

“Act sober.” Crowley hissed.

“Can’t, too many wine” Aziraphale smiled sleepily.

“Crowley, is that you? Are you alright?” a tall woman in a frilly housecoat asked.

“Yes Miranda, s’all fine. Jus’ bringing a friend up.” Crowley took a stab at a winning smile.

Miranda hurried over to make certain. She had been Crowley’s neighbor for the past several months or so and had formed a fondness for him that he was completely perplexed by. He hadn’t done anything to particularly earn her fondness but he was subjected to it all the same. Sometimes he would find the odd plate of biscuits or a book outside his door with a little note saying that she had made too many or it seemed like the sort of thing he might like. Her biscuits were always a little too dry but her book recommendations were usually enjoyable. She’d been very interested in his life and keen to be encouraging as he shared vague details about his life in response to her questions. She’d spent a great deal of time trying to ascertain whether or not he was leading a happy life that included “emotional fulfillment”, whatever that might mean.

Aziraphale stuck out a hand politely and enunciated with the care of someone enormously drunk “Miranda, dear! You must be Crowley’s neighbor. He’s often told me how glad he is of your little presents!”

She took the proffered hand and looked flattered but suspicious of Aziraphale. “He’s a lovely boy. I don’t think I’ve seen you around though. Who are you?”

Crowely broke in “Oh, ‘s’just a friend. I know him from..Things. We work together. Or sort’v work together. W’re in th’same business.”

She looked affronted. “Just a friend that you’re carrying back to your home at 1am? Crowley, I honestly thought you thought better of me than that! You don’t have to hide it!”

“Er, I’m not?” Crowley hoped this wasn’t going where it seemed like it was going but best to deny first and ask questions later.

Aziraphale chimed in trying to be helpful “Oh no, he’s very forthright about things. S’one of his best qualities,” nodding sagely. He patted Crowley’s chest with his free hand, unknowingly grazing a nipple. Crowley let out a slightly aroused squeak that he immediately turned into a cough.

Miranda looked visibly relieved “Well, I’m glad! You’ve never brought anyone home before so I was a bit worried you were very much in the closet. You’re just such a lamb and I want you to have love in your life!”

“Which closet?” Aziraphale asked with genuine interest.

She waved her hands impatiently “anyway, it hardly matters now. I’m just so glad that you’re having a gratifying personal and sexual life! That’s very important to happiness!” Miranda said this with the conviction of someone who had read a great deal of self-help books and was comfortable saying things like ‘actualization’ and ‘self-care’ to relative strangers.

Crowley’s eyes widened behind his sunglasses. This was not a conversation he was prepared to have with Miranda. At 1am. While drunk. With an equally drunk angel using him for support. “Miranda, please! Now’s really not th’time!”

“I know darling, but I just wanted you to know that I’m happy for you. Now, do you need any supplies? You can never have enough lubricant, really. I know you might think it’s enough tonight but in the morning you’ll feel differently, I can tell you! Oh, should I put in my earplugs tonight?” She lowered her voice “he looks like a bit of a screamer to me”

Crowley felt his face burn. This was not something he needed to be wondering. Privately he’d always imagined Aziraphale to be a ‘screamer’ too but those thoughts were kept under strict 24 hour watch and allowed out only on special holidays.

Aziraphale smiled warmly “You’re too kind! Really, that’s very thoughtful of you but I’m sure we’ll be fine. Crowley’s excellent at erm..improvisation.”

Miranda gave a little squeal of happiness and patted Aziraphale’s arm “You lucky boy! Alright, well you two have fun! I’ll put in my earplugs tonight, so just know that you’re free to be as loud as you like. I’ll manage a good night’s sleep no matter what!” She gave them both a kiss on the cheek and went back into her apartment, locking her door for the night.

“G’night, dear!” Aziraphale called.

Crowley could feel his brain stuttering into action. This was all some sort of fever dream from accidentally drinking sacramental wine. His neighbor did not just offer him lubricant. It was not hinted that he and the angel were together about to have sex. None of this had happened because those sorts of things wouldn’t dare happen to Anthony J. Crowley, certainly not if they knew what was good for them.

A contemplative sigh from Aziraphale attracted Crowley’s attention. “That w’s’rather generous offer, I thought.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and helped haul the two of them into his apartment. It wasn’t quite as modern as his previous one but after the demonic home invasion he felt like a change of scenery might help him sleep a bit better. He’d kept the white leather sofa, because some things you just don’t part with, but the rest of it had gone. His new apartment was dominated by highly polished wood and the odd bit of brushed steel. This style wasn’t exactly popular yet but Crowley had a good feeling about it. He left Aziraphale in the entryway and went to go find a bottle of wine to finish off the evening.

“My dear, I think w’should sober up f’rst.”

“I’m already sober. It’s not possible to experience that amount of embarrassment and stay sober. Sober up if you want.” Crowley growled as he looked for a Sauternes he’d been keen to try.

Newly sobered, Aziraphale looked reproachfully at Crowley “Really dear boy, she was just trying to be helpful.”

“G– Sa– SOMEONE save us from the help of humans.”

“Was it so bad?” Aziraphale furrowed his brow in concern. No, of course the angel wouldn’t see what the problem was.

“Angel, do you even know what she was trying to ‘help’ us with?” Crowley sounded tired.

“It was an offer of aids for sexual congress, was it not?” Aziraphale replied stiffly. Crowley looked astonished and uncomfortable. Aziraphale was definitely not supposed to understand the, ahem, ins and outs of sex. “One doesn’t live in Soho without picking some things up.”

Just like that, his embarrassment threshold had been reached. Crowley felt his hackles raising and leaned over the kitchen island

“Oh really, pick up anything else, did you?” he ground out. It was bad enough being wrong footed by a human but he was not going to be embarrassed into an early grave by an angel and certainly not this angel.

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes slightly “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Surprising! No lithe hairless boys coming to you begging to be instructed in the arts of love? No gruff bearded types looking to hold you close at night?” That was possibly too far but he didn’t care. Everything felt dangerously close to the surface, raw even. If he was going to have to feel this blessed vulnerable, he’d make sure Aziraphale felt it too.

Aziraphale’s jutted his chin forward stubbornly “If I didn’t know you, dear, I’d say you were jealous.” The threat hung in the air and Crowley felt his lungs momentarily seize.

He hissed “Do I have something to be jealous of, then?” He grabbed the closest stemware and strode into the sitting area trying not to glare openly. Aziraphale sat down on the couch with a deliberateness that bordered on confrontational. Crowley was frankly a little impressed at that but squashed that down and then sat on the opposite end of the sofa.

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, pinning Crowley with a look “There’s nothing to be jealous of, although even if there was I hardly see why anything I do should make you jealous.” He took a full wine glass from Crowley in an irritatingly airy way.

That tore it. Crowley slammed his own glass into the coffee table, remembering at the last minute to keep the wineglass from breaking.

“You towering bastard! You’re doing this just to rub it in!”

Aziraphale shouted “Rub what in? This snit you’ve gotten into has made you incredibly vague!” Aziraphale was flushing red with anger though more likely it was the wine. He looked magnificent. Terribly out of date, plump, well groomed, angry, and magnificent. Crowley groaned and put his head in his hands.

“Fine. FINE! I’ll fucking tell you!” Crowley took his glasses off and scrubbed his face. He looked up and through teeth that were, only with great force of will, not gritted said “I have developed…Feelings. For you. Ah, Feelings of a– more than friendly nature.” Crowley struggled to find words that made this less horrible, coming up empty handed. “And, that’s erm, what I was on about.” He finished bitterly. He had hoped that his fury at being cornered into revealing this would carry him through but he mostly just felt defeated, ready to crawl into a hole and live there for the rest of time.

Aziraphale looked worryingly pensive. Crowley sighed raggedly, there was never a hope of his Feelings being returned but it still hurt. Like burning coals filling up his chest... Still, at least it was done. Now he could get on with never bringing this up again.

With forced casualness Crowley announced “So, I’m going to pop off now and get tremendously drunk and then come back and sleep for the next several decades. I’d rather you weren’t here when I get back. If you need anything before then, feel free to piss off. I expect the next time we talk that we will never ever speak of this again.” He put his glasses back on and made for the door. “See yourself out when you’ve done with the wine” he said without bothering to look back.

He heard the crack of glass and felt a soft hand on his forearm. Aziraphale turned him around. Behind the angel, Crowley could see a fallen glass and the spreading puddle. He focused on that. He was not going to look Aziraphale in the eye until he’d had many, many drinks and at least a good hundred years of sleep. Hopefully by then most of the shame would be flushed out of his system. He flinched as he felt warm fingertips on his brow.

“I’m so sorry” croaked Aziraphale, not sounding nearly wretched enough about it in Crowley’s opinion. Crowley decided he could break the non-looking policy to glare at the angel.

“Yes, well you would be. You and your angelic pity can bloody well shove off! The least you could do would be to let me leave with the few remaining shreds of dignity I’ve got!”

Aziraphale gave him that look of concern that made Crowley want to punch him. Then suddenly there were lips touching Crowley’s lips. It was smooth and a bit warm and over incredibly quickly. Aziraphale looked surprised at himself and deeply embarrassed at his own presumption. Crowley wasn’t sure what he looked like but was fairly certain it was far less suave than he had hoped he’d look if this moment ever happened.

“I have erm…Feelings for you too. If that helps…” Aziraphale managed to say.

Crowley closed his eyes in despair. This was worse. It was wonderful and much much worse. “You do. Of course you do! You’re an angel. You see, this is why I didn’t say anything.”

Aziraphale stepped back and folded his arms over his chest, oh he was definitely ready for a fight. “Oh yes?” He asked with a politeness that Crowley knew to treat very carefully if he didn’t want to get discorporated.

“It’s that, the thing is, you’re an angel,” Crowley searched for how to explain the vagaries of love to a being essentially made to love.

“How astute” Aziraphale bit out. He really could be a complete bastard sometimes. Frustratingly, it made Crowley Feel a little bit more for him and also want to scream.

“Look, I’m just saying that you Feel for everything. You might have Feelings for me but you have them for everything. You Feel for me like you feel about everything else in the entire blessed world! I’ve made peace with it, let it go, angel.” There was a momentary temptation to let Aziraphale persist in his belief that he loved him but that was what made having Feelings such a bugger. Letting Aziraphale do this would have been far worse than never having his Feelings returned at all. Aziraphale’s heavenly influence really had ruined him.

Aziraphale looked incensed “I thought you’d be rather more open minded about this. Of course I Feel differently about you! Who else do I tolerate or even like the way I do you, you bloody serpent? And anyway, just because I’m an angel doesn’t mean I go around having Feelings willy nilly!”

“Yes you do, it’s your job!” he countered.

“Well, I do feel differently about you, inconveniently enough” Aziraphale said with a scowl.

Crowley stood up straight. He hadn’t wanted to reduce the argument to this and most certainly hadn’t wanted Aziraphale to know this but it would clinch it. Then he could go get punishingly drunk and forget this had ever happened. “Fine, fine, what you Feel about me is different. It’s still not what I’m talking about it! You think you Feel this about me but you don’t want to actually be together and you’d hardly want to Do Things. My Feelings for you are very much Doing Things-centric, angel.”

Aziraphale clenched his teeth and blushed guiltily.

“No” Crowley breathed.

“Only because I have Feelings, you understand. I want to be very clear about this. It’s nothing as prurient as you’re imagining I’m sure.” Aziraphale said defensively. “Anyway, I don’t imagine you’re interested in anything erm, long term, so perhaps it’s for the best if we just stop now.”

“Oh no you bloody don’t! And anyway, who says I wouldn’t be interested in something permanent?” At this point Crowley realized he had overstepped any confessions he had ever imagined making. He had overstepped in the same way that accidental self immolation is differently than burning yourself on the stove.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened and the room suddenly felt painfully full. Crowley was staring down the now public truth that he and Aziraphale seemed to want the same preposterously unlikely Thing. The only options now were to somehow act as if none of this had ever happened or to move towards some kind of Thing together. Option A was pleasingly straightforward if painful. Option B had the allure of getting what they both wanted but came with the burden of an entirely unknowable future and potentially far more painful. There were no relationships as such in heaven or hell that suggested how they might go about this. It requires far too much free will to manage such connections. At best you can have a general sense of love or a general sense of hate. This, on the other hand, was specificity of Feeling at its most human. Everything’s contagious if you stick around long enough, Crowley supposed.

“Em, do you want more wine?” Crowley asked, hoping to jump start something out of the silence.

“Not really.” Aziraphale swallowed and picked at his cuffs.

“Oh.”

The silence seemed to feel unbearably hot, which was unfair of it. Sound, or lack thereof, shouldn’t be allowed to have its own ambient temperature. Crowley looked carefully at Aziraphale before reaching out an unsteady hand to pull him into an embrace. He could feel his own heart pounding wildly against Aziraphale’s chest as he held him close and suspected he could feel Aziraphale’s beating equally hard. He almost laughed at how irritatingly human it all was. Being a few inches taller, he tilted his head slightly to smell Aziraphale’s hair. It smelled like biscuits, properly nice shortbread biscuits. He wondered if that was common to all angels or if Aziraphale was just the sort of angel that smelled like biscuits. He could admit privately to himself that he had suspected Aziraphale would smell more like old leather and tea but then he hadn’t smelled all of him yet. He couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran through him at the thought of smelling more of Aziraphale.

“Sorry, just a bit – erm, much.”

“Quite alright, dear boy. We can certainly slow down if you need to.” Aziraphale patted Crowley’s side in what was probably not meant to be a patronizing manner. Crowley graciously let it go. Aziraphale had laid his head against Crowley’s shoulder but they both remained a bit stiff in one another’s arms, unsure if this was really the direction either of them wanted to go.

Crowley shook his head “No, no it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Perhaps we ought to talk about this.”

“Haven’t we already said quite a bit?”

He felt Aziraphale sigh gently. “Yes, but I think in these matters it’s best to be clear. I’d like to avoid any more misunderstandings if we can.”

“Alright, let’s um, talk.”

“I think we might be more comfortable on the couch rather than standing against the door.”

“Oh right, of course.” Crowley let go and quickly brushed past Aziraphale to sit on the couch. He gave a vague wave at the broken glass and spill on the floor, leaving an empty, unbroken glass on the coffee table and a dry floor. He poured a fresh glass in case Aziraphale changed his mind. Aziraphale sat down, closer this time but still quite prim.

“So we both have Feelings.” Aziraphale said expectantly. Crowley responded with a cautious nod.

“We both have an interest in something more permanent.” Aziraphale sounded less sure of where this was going now. Crowley decided to just nod again.

“And we both are interested in the erm, physical side of these Feelings.” Crowley forced himself to nod in the exact same way as he had to the other statements. He had to ask though. He really did have to be sure they were on the same page. In the same book at the very least.

“Just so that I know, you do mean physical in the same way that humans would mean it, right?”

Aziraphale looked defiant and miserable simultaneously “Yes.”

“That’s not going to make you er, Fall, is it?” It felt gauche to be talking shop at a time like this but Aziraphale had to know “Because I wouldn’t ask you to do that. I would never want you to do that. I really am fine without It, or I could manage to be fine.” This was utterly awful “I just don’t want anything to happen to you because of something I did…”

Aziraphale smiled hopefully “Surely because of something we did.” Crowley felt the air leave his lungs at Aziraphale’s gentle suggestion. “I can’t Fall for this. I doubt they’ll be pleased with me but as long as we’re discreet it should be fine.”

Crowley was not convinced “You can’t fall for Lust? That’s news to me and everyone in the second circle.”

“It’s complicated but suffice it to say that Love cancels out Lust rather effectively.” Aziraphale said in what seemed a suspiciously blank manner.

“Oh…That’s good.” Crowley winced at himself. Aziraphale tensed.

“Of course, I feel that, for you too.” Crowley wasn’t sure that was an improvement on ‘good’.

“I’d hoped that you might but it’s difficult to be certain.” Aziraphale offered softly.

Crowley was going to say this if it killed him, which he supposed it might. He’d never tried it before. “I love you, angel” he uttered haltingly. That didn’t feel great but it felt much better than he’d thought it might, with the added bonus that he was still alive.

“Crowley” Aziraphale’s mouth fell open slightly in shock. “I never had any expectation that you should say that. Really, I know it’s not quite your thing. I – You didn’t have to do that. You don’t have to do that.”

“I know.” Crowley didn’t know that at all. “I said it because it’s true.” That was honest at least.

Aziraphale carefully took Crowley’s hand in his own and stroked it with his thumb. “I love you too, my dear.”

Crowley felt fingers of ice and fire running down his spine. “I suppose we should kiss now.”

Aziraphale nodded “That would be pleasant.”

He leaned forward and kissed Crowley’s lower lip carefully. Crowley felt the icy fire spread to the rest of his limbs and he pulled Aziraphale so that he was flush against his side. Aziraphale gave a small grunt of surprise that made Crowley pull him in even closer. Aziraphale responded by wrapping one smooth, warm hand around the back of Crowley’s neck. Crowley tilted his head and gave a delicate tap of his tongue to Aziraphale’s lips. The next thing he felt was a warm, wet touch against his own tongue. It was terrifying but it made his body feel like he had touched a live wire.

Aziraphale pulled back and gave Crowley a look of want that stilled everything. They had lived for countless ages not being subject to this. This was the cusp of that fierce desire to imprint love upon another being. There was no way to unknow that or the depthless raging love that drove it. Every decisive moment that Crowley had ever witnessed in humanity came back to him in that instant. The weight of inevitability: the decision made and now the act to follow. It felt crushingly glorious.

Aziraphale took Crowley’s face in his hands and kissed him obsessively. Every single part of their lips and tongues had to discover and learn every part of the other’s. Aziraphale’s imperfect teeth were strange and pointed against his tongue. The roof of his mouth itched furiously when Aziraphale licked it. The underside of Aziraphale’s tongue felt obscene when he let his tongue stroke it. He sucked on Aziraphale’s bottom lip and got a shuddering groan in reply. His own bottom lip was instantly between Aziraphale’s teeth, being scraped in a way that made his eyes roll back in his head. He could feel saliva on his chin and covering his lips. It felt disgusting and wonderful.

Aziraphale’s fingers were buried in Crowley’s hair and dragging on his scalp, making his toes curl. Crowley broke the kiss to lean his forehead against Aziraphale’s “Wait, do you want to move this to a bed?” He hadn’t wanted to ask such a frank question but he didn’t think either of them would be comfortable naked on a leather sofa and he definitely wanted to feel Aziraphale naked. Aziraphale wiped his own chin and nodded.

They quickly stood up and shuffled their way down the hall. Crowley’s bedroom was dominated by a king size bed with dark blue linens. Aziraphale toed off his shoes and got situated against the headboard. Crowley took off his glasses, pulled off his boots and after a reluctant moment, pulled out and unbuttoned his shirt. He threw it over an armchair in the corner and joined Aziraphale on the bed.

“Do you want me to do the same?” Aziraphale offered.

“If you want to,” He rather hoped that Aziraphale did.

He nodded but as he began to remove his jumper and unbutton his own shirt, he paused saying “You don’t mind that I’ve let this body run to seed a bit, do you?” Crowley wanted to laugh, as if Crowley hadn’t already spent years seeing this body, being near it, and alright, occasionally fantasizing about it. He settled for snorting.

“It’s the body you’re in. I want it.” He said very simply.

Aziraphale flushed slightly but resumed taking unbuttoning.

Crowley took the opportunity to ask “Do you have any experience with this sort of thing?”

“I recall kissing once or twice, but that was at least several centuries ago. Do you have any?”

Crowley looked sheepish “Erm, possibly. I think I was very drunk at the time and you were elsewhere. I believe it was 8 BC or thereabouts. I’ve kissed several times since then but nothing more ah, involved.”

Aziraphale looked dubious “You understand the theory though?”

Crowley huffed “Yes, angel, I do. Besides, I was hardly going to suggest anything difficult. Let’s stick with skills we already have for now.” He got a blank look.

“What skills?”

“Um, masturbation.”

Aziraphale gave a concerned shake of his head “I haven’t.”

Crowley was stunned. “What do you mean? As in never?”

“Well, it was never terribly appealing. Making the effort for that seemed silly.”

“Have you ever even made the effort?”

“A few times but usually just to blend in better.”

“Are you sure you want to actually do this then? We don’t have to do anything right now” Crowley offered carefully.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. It doesn’t seem terribly difficult.”

“That’s not what I asked. Do you want to?” He looked at intently at Aizraphale.

Aziraphale looked slightly breathless “Yes, I want to.”

Crowley let go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding. He reached for Aziraphale and helped undo the buttons at his cuffs before pulling his shirt off. He immediately ran a hand over Aziraphale’s chest and stomach. His skin was warm and smooth to the touch. He could feel the give of fat over muscle stroked the small curve of his belly. Aziraphale ran his own hands up and down Crowley’s sides and shoulders, looking lost in the sensation. Crowley dipped his head to kiss Aziraphale’s neck. He laid down small sucking kisses from his ear to his collarbone, relishing the way that Aziraphale’s breathing changed to staccato pants. He pulled Aziraphale on top of him, the weight made it difficult to maneuver but feeling the pressure was delicious. Aziraphale wasn’t supporting himself at all. He was just trying to stay still and making small sounds that filled Crowley with delight. He was tugging gently at an ear with his lips when he became aware that the contents of his trousers were pressed intimately against the contents of Aziraphale’s trousers. Aziraphale bucked and groaned.

“Oh, my dear.”

Without thinking, Crowley put his hands on Aziraphale’s arse and pulled the two of them closer together. Aziraphale jerked and gave a whine.

“Angel, are you making the effort?” Crowley teased Aziraphale’s neck and shoulders with his teeth. Aziraphale nodded but didn’t speak.

“Are you going to do anything with that effort?” His voice cracked as Aziraphale squirmed against him and watched his face intently. He looked ragged but mussed but somehow radiated power. He was glowing with earnest love and it was intoxicating. Crowley felt flayed to the bone. Withstanding the force of that love was like standing too close to a bonfire. It verged on pain and made his heart stutter but he had no intention of stopping.

Aziraphale tugged one of Crowley’s wrists to his mouth and sucked at all the delicate skin. Kissed fingertips. Rubbed them over his wet lips.

“Nrgh! Angel! Manchester’s sake, go a little easy on me!”

Wild eyes met his, “I can’t.” Aziraphale sounded a little frightened and absent.

Crowley stroked his hands over Aziraphale’s back and arse in what he hoped might be a comforting way “Shh, angel, it’s fine. We’ll be okay.”

Aziraphale held Crowley’s face in his hands and whispered “I think we should take the rest of our clothes off.” And with a thought they were warm, tensed flesh against flesh.

Crowley shrieked and thrust wildly “Fuck! Warning, angel!”

Aziraphale was gritting his teeth and trying to minimize his answering thrusts “Sorry, carried away, my dear.”

He rolled off of Crowley and lay beside him breathing heavily. They stared at each other, not sure how to invite the next level of touching. Crowley blushed furiously and balled his hands into fists. Aziraphale looked…He just looked. Well, like a god, if Crowley really had to pin it down. Not a glorious perfect god, but perhaps a more real one. He was barely contained love held together by soft plump skin, curves of fat and muscles, smoothed angles, and dark gold curls. Aziraphale’s expression suggested he wasn’t disappointed at what he was looking at either but Crowley still felt tempted to cover himself. His lean lines were sharper, unfinished almost.

Crowley let his gaze travel down past Aziraphale’s belly to see what he’d been wondering about for longer than he’d care to recall. Crowley was a bit surprised by how normal looking it was. It was a cock. It didn’t have a halo, or its own set of wings, or glow, or even emit a faint hum. It was erect but the head was still covered by the foreskin. It looked to be only five inches long, if that. The modesty of angels, perhaps? Crowley knew himself to be somewhere around six and a half, and definitely not because he’d ever decided that he should measure it for some reason. Aziraphale’s balls were resting in the groove between his thighs. They looked normal as far as Crowley could tell, the requisite amount of hair and whatnot.

Aziraphale coughed politely “I’m–Well, anyway, I hope it all meets with approval.” Crowley remembered to look up and maybe stop staring at the angel’s cock for a minute. Aziraphale had an expression of nervous pleasure on his face.

None of this was in his field exactly but Aziraphale was worth some momentary awkwardness. “You’re beautiful” he said in a way that he hoped conveyed all of the other words that he was thinking. Aziraphale’s cock twitched.

Crowley grinned “Do you like that, then? Hearing how nice you look?”

“Completely involuntary, I assure you.” Aziraphale with studied indifference.

“Mm, so when I say that I think you’re so perfectly handsome that I want to trace every line of your body with my tongue. None of that does anything for you?” He was grinning, this was more in his territory.

Aziraphale struck quickly and pulled Crowley too him, hiking one of Crowley’s legs over his hip. Crowley knew this was playing with fire but he’d felt like he was on fire this whole time anyway. He was ready to go up in flames.

Aziraphale looked straight at him and with a frustratingly genuine smile said “I love you. I want to wrap myself around you and keep you safe. I want to protect you and treasure you. I want to be yours and to make you mine.” His eyes flared with something uncomfortably raw “I would do anything for you, dear.” As he said this, he clumsily reached between them to touch Crowley’s cock. There was no rhythm or finesse and it felt weird rather than pleasant but the intent behind it overshadowed all of those and had Crowley keening. Aziraphale was had managed to find a long buried need of Crowley’s and was intent on meeting it with all of the embarrassingly honest sentimentality available to him.

The love pouring over him felt like the warmest bath, the longest sleep, the most delicious meal, and the most shameful vice he had ever indulged in. The love and shame intertwined to drive a spike of desire through him so intense that felt like he might disintegrate. He stilled Aziraphale’s hand and panted “Wait, wait a second.” He rummaged in his bedside table and retrieved a slightly gummy bottle of lubricant. “Put this on both of our cocks and then let me get on top of you.” Aziraphale looked nervous but also quite pleased to have affected Crowley so much.

He took the bottle and snicked it open. Crowley felt cool stickiness envelop his cock, pressure surrounding it. He hissed a little at the intensity of it. Aziraphale took his hand away.

“No, it’s good. Just a lot” Crowley reassured him. Aziraphale nodded. He rolled onto his back and positioned himself near the middle of the bed, reclining on a few pillows. He touched his own cock with a lube coated hand and slid it carefully up and down, stifling little moans.

“Pull the foreskin back.” Crowley instructed. Aziraphale retracted it and gasped as cool air hit the head of his cock. Crowley stared wonderingly at this beautiful, debauched vision in front of him. Gently he told him “Get that part wet too.”

Aziraphale whimpered as he covered that in lubricant as well, and then looked intently at Crowley “Please?”

Crowley carefully straddled Aziraphale and lined up their hips so their cocks were brushing against one another. He braced himself on his hands and spread his knees wide, sinking down to bring their hips flush. They both groaned. Aziraphale looked like he wasn’t completely present anymore.

Crowley stroked his chest softly “You alright, angel?”

Aziraphale looked up into his face with a beatific smile, took Crowley’s face in his hands and brought it down to reverently kiss his lips and then his brow. Crowley felt drunk and sensed everything in him shift entirely. He moved his hips against Aziraphale’s and began a slow rhythm. Aziraphale tossed his head to the side, breathing harshly. Crowley clutched his hands in the duvet and leaned down to kiss Aziraphale’s neck, jaw, cheek, eyelid. The tightening in his groin wound higher. Aziraphale was thrusting up and reached between them to loosely stroke them both. The brush of Aziraphale’s palm over his cock, the pressure of their bodies pushing them together was unspeakable.

He wanted this to be eternity. The pleasure of sensation, of love, ignited tiny spasms in his body. Aziraphale pulled his legs up and wrapped them around Crowley’s waist. He felt like he was being pulled into Aziraphale’s body. He crouched down further so their faces were inches apart. They stared open mouthed at each other. Crowley could feel Aziraphale’s warm pants of air touching his face and saw his own buffeting Aziraphale’s damp curls.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened “Oh! Oh..Crowley! I-Oh!”

He inhaled deeply and let out a wordless sob, his hips thrusting up, his cock jerking between them and coating both of their bellies in wetness. Crowley watched the orgasm crest and felt himself slip more deeply under. He greedily whispered to Aziraphale as he watched him come apart “My angel–“  Aziraphale’s cheeks were enflamed and his lips were parted to show a soft pink tongue. Crowley felt the edges go hazy and suddenly words stopped encompassing meaning. Words like “Please” “More” “Now” “Oh” “Touch” “There” “Yes” were the barest edge of what he felt. He was burning and falling and drowning and soaring at once. The only thing he was aware of was Aziraphale’s arms wrapped around him and his own body bowing with each spasm. He surrendered to it and let it melt him into nothingness.

He could hear Aziraphale speaking and felt something warm and damp touching his stomach. Consciousness crept over him as he felt himself be rolled onto his back. He opened unfocused eyes to see Aziraphale looking fondly at him. His heart clenched with answering fondness and he tried to move his limbs but they felt weighted. Aziraphale took one of Crowley’s hands in his own.

“You were only gone for a minute or so. I just cleaned us up a bit.”

Crowley nodded dumbly. Aziraphale handed him a glass of water that Crowley was sure hadn’t been there a second ago. He carefully focused on sitting up enough to bring the glass to his lips and drank most of it down. Aziraphale took the glass back as Crowley sank back onto the bed.

“Love has some things to recommend it” Crowley managed to say with a mouth that felt loose and clumsy.

“Mmm” Aziraphale murmured in agreement as he nestled against Crowley’s side and closed his eyes.

Crowley looked at Aziraphale’s drowsy form “I thought you didn’t sleep.”

“ ‘S a night for trying new things” came the muttered reply.

“Ah. Will you be wanting to try new things tomorrow too?” Crowley asked as he brushed errant curls behind Aziraphale’s ear.

“My dear, I have no intention of letting you leave this bed tomorrow. Whether we end up doing new Things or not is up to you, but we will certainly be doing Things.” Aziraphale said without opening his eyes.

“I look forward to it, angel” Crowley kissed Aziraphale’s lips and felt a sleepy smile in answer. He wrestled the duvet out from under them and pulled it over, slinging an arm over Aziraphale’s hips and getting a leg between his.

As he drifted off into sleep Crowley felt warm, heavy, and surprisingly loved. Part of him twinged with the instinct to feel disgusted with himself but he decided that part could piss right off.

 


End file.
